


A Home from Home

by Wheely_Jessi



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Cultural Connection, F/F, Family Fluff, Fluff, Languages, Multi, Music, Reunions, Scotland, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheely_Jessi/pseuds/Wheely_Jessi
Summary: A standalone post-canon two-parter (because people were kind and asked).December 1964.The Turners are travelling through Scotland up to Aberdeen, and stop in Edinburgh, so Patsy and Delia can meet May.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In order to give myself a break after finishing _Now or Never Now_ , I wrote this utter fluff fest based on a connection that's been niggling at my brain for the whole of series/season eight. It only features information disclosed in the Christmas Special, though, so no spoilers if you're anywhere other than the UK (except that it's set post-canon).
> 
> Posted with thanks to CallTheBaker and Catching Up for readthroughs and comments, and Jojo_In_The_Shadows for telling me to have confidence in my fluff. _Hopes and Fears_ will return shortly, I promise.

‘Pats, _cariad_ , I think you’re allowed to stop cleaning now. I can see my face clearly enough in that countertop to do a _lipstick touch-up_.’ Delia shook her head as her frazzled fiancée turned around – likely to look askance at what she would consider the silliest of suggestions.

The younger woman was pleasantly surprised, however, as her older _annwyl_ not only nodded in agreement but lobbed the cloth she was holding directly into the sink. ‘I know,’ Patsy said simply, ‘I just want it to be hygienic.’ Then she broke off, and brushed the lightest of kisses to her little love’s lips, as though gently goading her to test the truth of her statement about the surfaces. But the brunette had no chance to check this out, because the redhead rambled on further. ‘Especially if you’re planning to bake with Shelagh and the kids whilst Patrick prods me on my psychological progress.’

This caused Delia to shake her head a second time, albeit stifling a giggle. ‘You know full well that’s not why they’re coming to visit,’ she replied with mock-severity. ‘They need to break the journey up to Aberdeen, and it made sense to stop here. They want to see us as _friends_ , not colleagues – and _definitely_ not patients, _Patience_.’

Patsy rolled her eyes at the combined tone and (frankly pathetic) pun. ‘You are _so_ predictable,’ she drawled, giggling too. ‘I know all that, Deels, but I _will_ want to talk to him a bit. It’s already past Papa’s second anniversary, and I still can’t quite fathom the concept of being an orphan.’

The switch to the serious subject happened before they realised it, but neither minded, as it felt natural. Besides, it had been bound to come up today, given the guests they would soon be greeting. So Delia merely smiled, moving to grasp her favourite nurse’s hand, and rubbed her thumb soothingly over the skin to ease its slight rawness – collateral damage from her darling’s extra-enthusiastic cleaning efforts. ‘Well,’ she offered, her speech as soft as her touch, ‘at least you won’t be the only one feeling bereft of parents around the tea-table. Biological ones, that is, since May seems already as happy as Angela to be a Turner.’

‘You’re right,’ Patsy purred pensively. ‘Is it terrible that I’m very excited to meet her?’

‘Not in the least,’ Delia answered with a decisive squeeze of the hand she still held. ‘I’d be surprised if you weren’t. And,’ she added, ‘from what Shelagh said in her last ’phone call, she’s just as excited to meet you.’

‘Really?’ Patsy grinned; almost giddy that she might be considered a useful influence.

‘Mhmm. You can give her a connection to home she isn’t otherwise easily able to access. But, if you don’t believe me, you can see for yourself in, oh,’ the Welshwoman paused, consulting the clock on the kitchen wall, ‘five minutes?’

Her English fiancée faded a little. ‘Definitely no more cleaning for me, then,’ she declared with real despondence. ‘Don’t _laugh_ , Deels!’

Delia did her best to stop snickering. ‘ _Sori, cariad_ ,’ she soothed, ‘you could pop the kettle on instead? I bet they’ll be gasping for a brew, even if they did make several stops before us.’

Patsy had the grace to nod good-naturedly as she left her lover’s immediate proximity to start the tea. Delia was right, after all; it was a much more efficient use of time and energy. She just hoped they would hear the knock on the door over the sounds of boiling water and the soon-to-be screaming whistle – followed, of course, by Garbo’s protective bark from the basket he had thus far been content to occupy. They did, though, and rushed through to the front hallway with their dog bounding behind them, ready for the clamour of the children and the (admittedly barely better behaved) adults on the other side of the wood panels.

‘Hello, everyone,’ they said in unison, opening the door to find _six_ pairs of eyes staring back at them from various different heights. Teddy, hilariously, was the tallest, being hoisted on his father’s shoulders. They received _five_ “hellos” of sorts in return, as diverse as the people who gave them. Then _four_ of their visitors (father, two sons, and one daughter) trooped into the house, Angela absolutely desperate for the loo, and Patrick, Tim and Teddy keen on tea. (Although Teddy seemed more interested in a biscuit than a beverage; as was arguably age-appropriate.)

Garbo was ecstatic at all the new humans to sniff, so Delia guided both him and their most eager group of guests back through to the kitchen, and elected to show Angela the toilet whilst, after a whispered exchange, Patrick took on pouring duty. This left Patsy and Shelagh in the passageway – along with the shy little girl peeking around the hem of her mother’s travelling dress. The two nurses shared smiles in a quick, silent, greeting of their own. Eventually Patsy caught the gaze of the Turners’ newest daughter and brought out her best (really rather rusty) Cantonese, which she had not used in the two years since returning from Hong Kong herself. ‘ _Léi hóu ma_?’ she asked quietly as she knelt down, before being brave and continuing. _‘Ngóh giu Patsy. Léi giu māt’yéh mèhng a?_ ’

May did not reply immediately, but both women watched her eyes grow wider when she heard this person (who was white and looked nothing like a nun) voluntarily speaking her first language. Then, with a force which impressed all three of them, she launched herself from the cover of Shelagh’s legs and latched onto Patsy like a limpet for a hug, only then managing to mumble, ‘ _Ngóh giu_ _May_.’

Patsy blinked back a tear – glad she could pass the emotion off as being winded by the change in position. Leaning to whisper in her new friend’s ear, she was overwhelmed by the thought of being this girl’s occasional home from home, but all she said was, ‘ _Léi hóu, May._ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cantonese: 'How are you? I'm Patsy. What's your name?' 'I'm May.' 'Hello, May.' (With apologies to any native speakers for my rather shoddy transliteration.) The actual phrase for 'hello' to someone you're meeting for the first time is 'Néi hóu', similar to the Mandarin equivalent, but in Hong Kong Cantonese 'n' often switches to 'l'.
> 
> A note on Patsy knowing so many Chinese dialects: As a third culture kid moving between many different countries, you learn to adapt quickly, especially around language. Cantonese is/was fairly prevalent in both Shanghai and Singapore, and Patsy then stays with her father in Hong Kong for quite a while, so it seems perfectly plausible to me that she would have picked up enough to communicate with May.
> 
> Basically, I think Patsy'd be an awesome lesbian godmother-figure to May, and it'll take a lot to convince me otherwise. Haha. Happy Sunday and St Patrick's Day and thanks for reading <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy, Delia, Shelagh and Patrick catch up, and then there's family dinner and sleepover fluff as the Turners are persuaded to stay the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted with thanks for the kind reception of the previous one, and the requests for more. Thank you for reading and commenting <3

‘Teddy, sweetheart, stop wriggling,’ Shelagh pleaded, attempting to placate the small boy she held in her lap, as the adults sat around the kitchen table later that day. ‘You may have your cupcake, and eat it too, but only once it’s cooked.’

Everyone else laughed at the joke, remembering their own impatience as toddlers, and Patsy put in, ‘You’d rather be out there, wouldn’t you?’ as she gestured towards the window through which they were all vaguely watching Tim horsing around with his (shrieking) sisters, and Garbo, in the garden’s gradually lengthening shadows.

It had taken quite some persuasion on the teenager’s part to prise May away from her new friend’s side. She had stayed there all afternoon, roping the redheaded nurse into the baking project along with their mother and Delia, and the astute young man had known his beloved ex-Akela would want some uninterrupted time to reconnect with her former colleagues. That and _he_ wanted a break from his father’s efforts to engage with him on the topic of popular music. He found Patrick’s fascination with The Kinks utterly flabbergasting; not to mention a terrible embarrassment. If he never heard him singing “You Really Got Me” or “All Day and All of the Night” to his wife through their bedroom door at home _ever again_ it would be too soon. Not that he had said any of this to their hosts, but Patsy saw it in his eyes, so they had expressed solidarity when he suggested taking the two girls outside for a while before dinner.

A further shout of frustration from Teddy brought everyone’s attention back indoors, and Delia took up the cajoling. ‘Don't worry, _bach_ ,’ she crooned, stretching across the table to chuck him under the chin. ‘They’ll be in the second they smell the spag bol.’

‘You’re right,’ Patrick agreed, chuckling, ‘and it’s very generous of you. Are you _sure_ you don’t mind us staying?’

‘Of course not,’ both women answered immediately, before breaking off, trying desperately to mask their blushes.

The brunette decided to opt for bravery and nonchalance. ‘We still share,’ she offered. ‘Force of habit. So the spare room’s all set, and the kids are more than welcome to the lounge floor with their sleeping bags.’

The redhead nodded in affirmation. ‘We could even bath the girls whilst you get Teddy settled, if that’d help facilitate a fairly normal night. Besides,’ she added, ‘we’re hardly letting you whisk May away the moment we’ve met her.’

Shelagh shot them a relieved smile for their thoughtfulness. ‘It would. Thanks. And I’m so glad you like her.’

‘That’s that, then,’ Delia said, softly declaring the subject closed as she got up to stir the pasta and taste the sauce.

It was done, signalling the start of the sort of raucously delightful meal the newly-relocated nurses had never thought they would witness in this house. Teddy was content as soon as his siblings sat down, so the only squeals were those of happiness. Patsy found the stash of chopsticks she had brought home from “home”, leading to many giggles as everyone tried to be the most proficient at eating their spaghetti using them. True, they were not strictly for this kind of food, but convention had never been the strongest suit of anyone involved – and it was fun. Eventually, tummies full of not just pasta but cakes they had baked themselves, the younger guests felt their eyes beginning to droop. Teddy was taken upstairs first, his face still covered in crumbs, to be washed clean and sung to sleep. His sisters stayed downstairs, and needed to work off their excess energy, so were granted the chance to dance around the lounge to a whole range of records. May seemed to prefer Sam Cooke, which pleased Patsy no end, and she whirled her young friend across the carpet to “Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive” as fast as she could without making her sick. Because they both needed that reminder. Then, just before bath time, they bunged The Beatles on, thinking “She Loves You” was a good setup for sleep.

Between the bath and bed, of course, came a story. Delia was going to do this job, so Patsy could go and clean the kitchen – and possibly fit in a private conversation with Patrick. May was adamant, however, so the older woman wrapped herself and the two girls in their sleeping bags and several blankets. Instead of reading, she wove a tale filled with adventure, excitement, and plenty of Cantonese phrases. She figured, if she included enough, Angela might learn some too; and help her little sister to hang on to her heritage. Or rather help her _sai múi_ , if she could be persuaded to call her that, and be called _ga jē_ (big sister) in return. Thankfully, her parents ( _fuh móu_ ) were committed to maintaining the connection, not least through visits like this. Patsy would send cards, as well, and then letters as she grew – and the telephone enabled them to talk. Tonight, though, they had the opportunity to communicate in person. And that was as much about cuddles as chats.

Consequently, when Delia and Shelagh reconvened in the kitchen to dry the dishes Patrick and Tim had dutifully washed, they were surprised by the apparent hush in the other room. So, glad their socked feet allowed them something close to silence, they crept through to investigate. What they saw made them both well up slightly; and they stood staring for a few seconds. Angela and May were snuggled on either side of Patsy – who was also lying down – and all three seemed to be sound asleep.

The Scot broke the spell first. ‘May hasn't dropped off this easily in _months_ ,’ she whispered, awestruck.

The Welshwoman shook her head, whispering too. ‘Nor has Patsy,’ she replied, at which accidental admission Shelagh just smiled sympathetically. Delia was blushing now, but grinned, and went on. ‘Thank you for visiting. For both their sakes. They can be _each other’s_ home from home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In line with the final conversation between Delia and Shelagh, this second chapter is brought to you by the first full night's sleep I've had in nearly two months and the relief I feel at finally returning to something close to normality.
> 
> Music: The songs referenced throughout are here, if you don't immediately recognise the titles:https://youtu.be/fTTsY-oz6Go, https://youtu.be/fOGMRnKl5co, https://youtu.be/lnErt_ff8-w, https://youtu.be/oVCwDl-S09A 
> 
> My dad and I both love The Kinks (so much so that he has tinnitus from going to one of their gigs as a teenager), so I put them in - it seemed in character that Patrick would too.
> 
> Thank you all for humouring this shorter, fluffier mini-adventure.


End file.
